Fading Legends
by misscam
Summary: Rumours speak of one of the seven rings, and Gimli convinces Legolas of one more adventure. But the Middleearth of old is fading and the sea is calling and not just to Legolas...
1. Prologue and Chapter One

Fading Legends  
By Camilla Sandman  
  
_The world is less than it was.  
  
The wind speaks to me of this, as I stand in the highest tower at Minas Tirith, tears flowing freely down my face. A few people look up at me, but I care not. They grieve too.  
  
My father is dead, and my mother is gone.   
  
And I have no idea what to do with my life.  
  
I am of two worlds. My father was Aragorn and my mother was Arwen, and I am Elvish and human both. But there is no choice. I must be human.   
  
Yet, as I stand up here, I see far, much further than any human should see.   
  
Middle-earth is changing. Lothlórien is fading. Rivendell is abandoned, and no one can find the valley where it once was. My heart sings of the sea, but there are no ships. The Havens are silent. The elves have left.  
  
All – save one. _  
  
~~~~~~  
  
A cold wind brushed past them, reminding Legolas winter was coming. The wind seemed colder than usual, promising a harsh winter.  
  
"If it truly is one of the seven rings, Legolas, the beauty we could create.. We could rebuild Moria more magnificent than ever.." Gimli, son of Glòin, chatted happily, not noticing his comrade's distant look. As always, the dwarf was carrying his mighty axe, the one that had served him so well against the orcs of Sauron.   
  
"I hear something," the Elf suddenly announced, and Gimli stopped at once, scanning the area.  
  
"What is it?"  
  
"I do not know." Legolas tensed. He had heard something, but the land was silent again. In the south, the mountain of Mordor towered, a reminder that no evil could ever truly vanish. It had sounded like whispers of Mordor, such as he had sometimes heard when Frodo had carried the ring.   
  
Mordor! Even without Sauron there, it seemed dark and evil, and yet they were going there, in the vain hope that one of the seven Dwarven rings were still there.   
  
Legolas doubted it, but Gimli had asked and he could not refuse the request. After Sauron's fall, most of his followers had run, and some were said to still hide in the mountains of Mordor. There they had one last treasure, it was said. One ring.  
  
Gimli was convinced it was one of the seven rings, as all others were accounted for. The Three had left. The Nine had vanished with the One.   
  
Rumours. There was nothing substantial to back it up. But even so, it was a chance to feel the pull of adventure once more, and ignore the calling of the sea.  
  
The sea... Middle-earth was changing. Its beauty was fading. The sea called, but Legolas had ignored its call for a long time.   
  
The whisper came again, and Legolas felt his heart turn cold. It came from Mordor. Someone there was aware of them.   
  
"I hear it," Gimli remarked, patting his axe.   
  
"We should tell Aragorn of this," the Elf replied, not even waiting to see if the dwarf would follow before setting of towards the Minas Tirith.   
  
The mountains of Mordor regarded them quietly.  
  
Chapter One  
  
_Darkness is falling. The stars have always comforted me and filled me with a strange joy, but they seem dimmer of late. Are they too fading? Or maybe they are mourning; mourning all that has been and can be no more.   
  
Sauron has been defeated. The world is rid of his evil. Yet I wish I had lived when he still cast his great shadow over the world. When his evil vanished, Middle-earth lost great beauty. I wish I could have seen all the wonders of the Middle-earth, wonders now fading. Soon they will be legends, and the legends will fade too.  
  
Will they be forgotten? Will my mother's race be forgotten, and it will be like she never lived?   
  
I miss her. I miss her gentle voice singing of elves and the wonders of old. I miss my father, and his stories and fond smile. I miss the brother I grew up with, who has grown distant, as he has taken up the throne of Gondor. I miss Minas Tirith as I remember it, filled with joy and song.   
  
Sauron's darkness was defeated. But a different darkness is falling now.   
  
And we will forget.  
  
_ ~~~~~~  
  
Legolas could feel eyes on him as he stepped through the streets of Minas Tirith, and a few low whispers reached his ears. Gimli muttered something under his breath about humans, but it didn't sound too hostile.   
  
It was getting dark, the moon had already appeared, a thin streak of silver, barely giving out light at all.   
  
"Legolas!" came a familiar voice, and they turned to see an old hobbit lady approach as fast as she could. Legolas felt a sting in his heart. Elanor, the daughter of Samwise Gamgee, was no longer young. None of them were anymore.  
  
"Gimli," the hobbit added as she reached them. Her face looked worn and tired, Legolas noted.   
  
"You are too late."  
  
"Too late?" Gimli asked, furrowing his brow.   
  
An unmistakable tear trickled down her face now, and she clasped her hand over her mouth.  
  
"The King sent for you. I though you had come.." her voice faded, as she fought bravely to keep her tears away.  
  
"My father is dead," came a clear voice from behind them, and Legolas turned. For a brief second he thought he was looking at Queen Arwen herself, undiminished in beauty.   
  
Then the woman stepped out of the shadows and the illusion was broken.  
  
She was Arwen and yet not Arwen. Her long, darkish hair was tied up in a more human fashion, and the clothes she wore were unmistakably human. Yet her eyes shone with the light of the Eveningstar.  
  
"I am Aneana," she said, as if anticipating the question. Even before she said it, Legolas knew who it had to be her, the youngest daughter of Arwen and Aragorn. No other could mirror the beauty of her mother and courage of her father.   
  
Gimli bent his head, and the elf put a hand on his shoulder without even thinking.   
  
"My mother has gone," Aneana continued, pain evident in her voice.   
  
"For the Havens?" Legolas asked, but he knew the answer.  
  
"No. There are no ships." And she looked at him with such intensity her eyes seemed to shine.   
  
_You are the last _her voice whispered, yet she spoke no words.  
  
*******  
  
Dark clouds drifted over the sky, covering the moon and shielding its faint light.   
  
And the shadows moved.   
  
The evil of Sauron could never be fully cured. Even when he would be forgotten, his shadow would still linger over Mordor. Evil would still gather there.   
  
In the silent night something was moving. Sauron had captured the being, tormenting it, until torment and death was all it knew.   
  
Sauron was gone, but his legacy remained.   
  
And the being whispered to the wind, whispered to those who hid, waiting for a new evil to call them.   
  
A new master.   
  
******  
  
Gimli let out a loud snore, one that Legolas could hear even through the wall. There were times the elf wondered if the dwarf did it on purpose, knowing that Legolas would be awake, as always.  
  
But tonight the snoring seemed oddly comforting.  
  
Leaning against the window frame, Legolas glanced out into the night and let his tears fall.  
  
Aragorn was gone. One more of the fellowship gone. Middle-earth seemed so empty now, even under the great trees of Mirkwood. The trees seemed less these days.  
  
The son of Aragorn was not Aragorn. Never again would it be so great a man.  
  
_You are the last._  
  
The daughter of Arwen was not Arwen. Yet her bright eyes had starlight in them.  
  
Eldarion would be a good king of Gondor, but his eyes had no starlight. He had dismissed the whispers of Mordor as orcs and had sent out a group of valiant men to hunt.  
  
They would not come back, Legolas realised, as the wind rose once more and the whispers returned. Something greater than orcs was stirring in Mordor.  
  
Grabbing his bow and quiver, he slipped quietly out of the room and into Gimli's. The dwarf opened his eyes as soon as the door opened, reaching for his axe before he saw who it was.  
  
"Even elves should have the sense to knock," he remarked surly.  
  
"We are going," Legolas interrupted.   
  
Gimli grumbled, but made no protests. The news of Aragorn's death had affected the dwarf more than he would admit, Legolas knew. Minas Tirith seemed to be only a reminder of what had been now.   
  
"You don't think it's orcs," the dwarf said as they wandered down the stairs. The elf shook his head.  
  
"Alas, there are few orcs these days," Gimli continued, keeping his tone light. "I miss the great hunts we had." He looked down a moment, and Legolas could see the moisture in the dwarf's eyes.   
  
"I feel old, Legolas. I fear I'm forgetting. Even her, beautiful beyond comparison, the lady Galadriel…" Gimli muttered, sounding more tired than the elf could ever recall hearing him before. "I wish dearly I could see her once more. I would die happily, Legolas, to see her just once more…"  
  
Legolas offered no reply, lost in his own thoughts.  
  
The hallways were silent as they left the palace, just a few guards here and there. Outside, the chill wind greeted them.   
  
One last adventure.   
  
Quietly, they slipped into the night, but they did not leave Minas Tirith alone.   
  



	2. Chapter Two

Fading Legends  
By Camilla Sandman  
  
Chapter Two   
  
_I do not sleep as humans do. There is no need for sleep in my body, but sometimes I sleep nevertheless, pretending I am fully human. It is an illusion, but an illusion I must live with.  
  
I did not sleep this night. My heart was pounding strangely, and I felt tense.   
  
Legolas. Last of the elves to remain in Middle-earth. Just the mere sight of him had sent strange impulses through my body. He was… Starlight and song and echoes of the past.   
  
Echoes of a past I so desperately wished I was a part of.  
  
I saw him and Gimli leave in the middle of the night, and I knew where they were going.  
  
The whispers of Mordor had reached my ears also, and so I followed them, into the night and the darkness.   
  
Humans are impulsive, fool-hearted and rush into situations without thinking.  
  
It is good to know I have some inherited humanity in me after all.   
  
_ ~~~~~~  
  
Dawn broke, pushing away the darkness and filling it with every shade of yellow, red and orange. The wind died away, as if sunlight was a wall it could not penetrate. The stars faded from view, and the moon gave way to the sun.   
  
Gimli seemed to rink in the morning sun, smiling as he always did, his thoughts far away and lost in the past. But Legolas felt a small worry beginning to build as daylight took hold.  
  
"It is quiet," he said aloud, listening intently to their surroundings. No birds, no animals, no wind. Just silence.  
  
The dwarf regarded him, but said nothing.   
  
Something was wrong with the land, Legolas realised. It was afraid. The birds, the animals, the very earth was afraid. The happy murmur of the trees since the defeat of Sauron had died down.   
  
Something was moving towards them. The footsteps were light, but it did not elude his sharp ears. He turned around, looking towards the faint outline of Minas Tirith in the distance. He thought he saw a glimmer of light some hundred feet away, but it was just for a brief moment.  
  
Silence fell again.  
  
Then a scream echoed through the land, a scream of terror and pain unimaginable.  
  
******  
  
The man known as Thronson screamed as the shadows came at him. He screamed and screamed until there was no breath left in him, frozen to the spot, unable to even move.   
  
"Thronson.." the shadow whispered, reaching into the man's mind and devouring all that was there. "You are mine now."  
  
The man tried to move, but his body no longer listened to him. To his horror, he felt another presence in his mind, a shadow of himself, now in charge. He was trapped in his own mind, no control over his actions anymore.  
  
And he screamed and he screamed and he screamed, but no sound escaped his lips.  
  
******  
  
Following the sounds, Gimli and Legolas ran, until they came upon the field of battle.  
  
A battle lost.  
  
Dead humans were scattered around, their bodies penetrated by arrows.  
  
"Orcs," Gimli said grimly, clutching his axe.   
  
A single human stood alone among the bodies, his back turned to them. As Legolas looked at him, the elf felt his heart go cold. There was something odd about the man, the way he stood erect and not even looking at them. And where had the orcs gone? Why were there no orc bodies?  
  
Gimli had already begun to approach, when the man turned.  
  
He had no wounds, and his sword was still sheathed. His eyes were oddly calm and dark.  
  
"An elf," the man said, ad there was a hint of contentment in his voice. "What fortune. An Eldar."  
  
Legolas almost reached for his bow, but the man made no hostile moves. He was simply standing there.   
  
"Orcs fell upon us," the man continued. "I thank you for your timely interference."  
  
"This was not orcs," came the clear voice that Legolas had no trouble recognising. Aneana, daughter of Awen and Aragorn, stepped out of the shadow where she had been standing.   
  
"My brother and I have hunted orcs often enough. They would never come this close to Minas Tirith, not since the fall of Sauron."  
  
The man whipped around, staring at her. A sickly look came over his face, one of desire and anger at once.   
  
"Arwen.." As the man said it, he seemed to change. Shadow fell over him, even though he was standing in broad sunlight.   
  
Legolas reached for his bow, but Gimli was already moving, charging the man in a heartbeat. Aneana had reached for the sword she wore, her whole stance so reminiscent of Aragorn it stung Legolas's heart.   
  
The man was screaming as Gimli's axe made contact with flesh and Legolas's first arrow hit.   
  
"Mine!" the man screamed, but his voice was no longer human. "Mine!"  
  
Even as another arrow flung into him, the man didn't slow down, leaping over Gimli and straight at Aneana. She didn't even blink, bringing her sword up.  
  
It cut into his abdomen, blood pouring out as yet another arrow hit him. A cry of rage came from the being, the shadows still growing around it. It was no longer human.  
  
"Mine!" it hissed again, going for her throat.   
  
With her sword still sticking into the flesh, Aneana had a valiant attempt to free it, but the being was too fast. She gulped as hands came around her throat. She lost her grip on the sword, tumbling backwards with the shadow over her.  
  
But Gimli had reached the two, and brought his axe down. Legolas fired again and again, and the being screamed.  
  
"No! Mine!"  
  
Even as it spoke, the shadow seemed to rise from it, high above the ground and with a final shriek it was picked up by the wind, carrying it eastwards.  
  
Leaving the dead body of a man on the ground.  
  
Gimli was already pushing away the body, helping Aneana to her feet. She looked pale and had several bruises on her neck, but she seemed to have no other injuries that Legolas could see.   
  
"What was that?" she gulped, leaning slightly on the stout dwarf by her side.  
  
"That was no orc," Gimli muttered, looking down at the dead body.  
  
"It went to Mordor," Legolas replied, turning east and staring at the towering mountains. But there was no sign of the shadow, and the land was quiet again.   
  
Too quiet.  
  



	3. Chapter Three

Fading Legends  
By Camilla Sandman  
  
Chapter Three  
  
_ Mordor.  
  
The very name sends a chill to my heart, and yet, strange hope.   
  
I live in my mother and father's shadow. Their great deeds are song around the land, even the trees remember them. They are legends. And what am I then?   
  
Mordor holds hope for me to step out of their shadow and shine on my own. Just once, until legends will no longer be made, only remembered.   
  
Even legends will be forgotten though. But I would like to be remembered, if only for a little while.   
  
To be a legend…  
  
_~~~~~~  
  
Gimli was still shaking his head when they continued eastwards, the abandoned Minas Morgul greeting them with a chill air of menace. Even abandoned it seemed to radiate evil, though moss was growing on it. One day green grass might grown again on its slopes, though Legolas doubted it. Some things could never be fully cured..  
  
Aneana seemed to be studying it as they approached, pretending not to notice the way the dwarf was shaking his head and looking at her. Gimli had not been happy that she had insisted to come along, but she argued that she would probably be safer with them than in Minas Tirith.   
  
She was stubborn, and even the dwarf had given up trying to get her to return home after a while. She simply refused, clutching her sword and looking ready to charge thousands of orcs.  
  
Legolas had not said much, knowing she would most likely follow them anyway. She was used to people doing what she wanted, the elf could tell, by the calm way she would counter the dwarf's arguments.   
  
The shadow-being had called her Arwen. It troubled Legolas, that and the strange feeling they were being watched. By what, he could not tell. But something was aware of them, as they made their way in the direction Legolas had seen the shadow-shape escape. Past Minas Morgul and into the heart of Mordor.   
  
"Minas Morgul," Aneana suddenly said, a slight shiver in her voice. "I hear its whispers sometimes, in the wind. My father believed there was still evil hiding there, buried deep. Few dares enter and no one has explored very far. Some never returned."  
  
"No dwarf fears the darkness," Gimli grunted, taking in the tower. But Legolas noticed that he clutched his axe harder. The dwarf was no fool, he had seen the evil that could lurk in the dark.   
  
As he spoke, the wind rose and whipped around them, silently whispering with a foulness that reminded Legolas of Saruman and the wizard's attempts to stop the Fellowship at the pass of Caradhras.  
  
Saruman… No, Saruman was dead. Frodo had seen it, there could be no mistake.   
  
Yet…  
  
Five Istari. Five wizards, come from beyond the sea. Gandalf had been the mightiest, going through fire and death for them all.   
  
Five wizards. Not all had been accounted far, vanishing in Middle-earth and forgetting their purpose.   
  
If one had turned to evil, could another have?  
  
******  
  
The shadows waited, watching their master mutter angrily. The winds gathered around him, growing in strength. He was angry, and the anger filled the dark chamber until the very air sparkled.  
  
"I want the elves!" he hissed, a voice so terrible even the orcs had covered when he had spoken to them. Holding up his had, the gold on his finger shone brightly.   
  
One ring. Perhaps he could make another. The elves had made rings. Perhaps… Perhaps he could have more use for them than he had thought.   
  
"Bring me one of the elves!"  
  
The shadows began to grow, taking on shapes and gathering darkness.   
  
The being smiled then, a smile that once had seemed human. He had once had the shape of a human, but his spirit had forgotten. It had forgotten sunlight and beauty and purpose. It had been a great spirit, a spirit sent to fight evil.  
  
It had forgotten that now. It remembered only darkness and torment, and it wanted revenge.   
  
Revenge by inflicting the same on others.   
  
Pain. Pain was power.   
  
*******   
  
The land of Mordor was quiet as they moved through it, except for the wind. It rose and fell, but it was always there. The whispers were low now, sounding almost excited.   
  
They climbed the mountains without too much trouble, alert and weapons ready. Yet the land seemed empty to Legolas's keen eyes, nothing moving.  
  
He would have welcomed a few orcs as opposed to the empty silence. It was as if the very land was waiting. And it seemed so… Less, now, like all of Middle-earth. If even Mordor could fade, what then of the rest of Middle-earth?  
  
Aragorn was gone. Arwen was gone. So many had left. Galadriel, Elrond, Frodo, Sam, his father Thranduil…  
  
All gone. Closing his eyes for a brief second, Legolas felt the familiar sense of longing fill him.   
  
What was left for him in Middle-earth?  
  
When he opened his eyes again, Gimli was by his side, looking at him as if the dwarf knew what he was thinking. The dwarf offered a sad smile before trotting on, quickly catching up with Aneana.   
  
Higher and higher they climbed, past the place of the Black Gate. It was torn down now, and empty. Here the last great battle of Middle-earth had been fought, but it was not where it had been won.   
  
Mount Doom. It looked quiet, no smoke or sign of life coming from it. Even the mountain seemed old and weathered now, like it had never sprouted fire. It seemed smaller too, and deep cracks had almost rendered it in two.  
  
Leaping, the elf caught up with the other two. But even as he did, a wind grabbed hold of him, so strong it nearly pushed them all to the ground.  
  
"Legolasssss…" the wind whispered. "Come…"  
  
And even in broad sunlight, Legolas felt cold.  
  



	4. Chapter Four

Fading Legends  
By Camilla Sandman   
  
Chapter Four  
  
_ The last elf.  
  
I see the longing in his eyes, this unexplainable need to cross the sea. I feel it too, but I am half human. I cannot imagine what it is like for him, or even why he has stayed so long. I would have left long ago, before Middle-earth faded, so I could keep it bright in my memory.  
  
How sad must he be, knowing all the great things that have been?  
  
Yet, I look at him, and my heart is filled with joy.   
  
I am glad he is still here. _  
  
~~~~~~  
  
The wind had died, and the sun was hanging low, so low darkness was already creeping in over Mordor.   
  
In the dark, Mordor almost looked as it had, but the strange silence lingered. They moved more slowly now, watching every step for a treacherous crack in the ground.  
  
Aneana didn't say much, but regarded the elf with bright eyes.   
  
"What do you think it is?" Gimli said suddenly, fixing his eyes on Legolas.  
  
"A wizard," the Elf said simply, causing the other two to blink in surprise. "There were five wizards. Three are gone."   
  
"Gandalf, Saruman, Radagast," Aneana shot in, nearly tripping over a rock. Her dark cloak almost made her blend in with the shadows. "My mother spoke of them."  
  
"What happened to the other two?" Gimli asked, eyes gleaming slightly in the dark. The elf wondered if he was thinking of their dear wizard friend, who had long since parted. Mithrandir, once Gandalf the Grey, but he had left as Gandalf the White.  
  
"I do not know. Those who know are no longer here," Legolas replied, staring up at the darkening sky. Galadriel would have know, he was sure of it.  
  
Galadriel was gone.  
  
And then the shadows came at them.  
  
Legolas spun around even before the first shape had moved, firing two arrows within a heartbeat. He reached for another as Gimli leapt on the shape closest to him, and Aneana brought out her sword.   
  
The shadows seemed to be half solid, because they twitched as the arrows found their targets. But they made no sound, silently attacking.   
  
The first shape fell to the round with five arrows in it, hissing as it did. And suddenly it dissolved, and the arrows fell to the ground alone.   
  
Legolas had no time to consider what it could be, two more shapes already coming at him. He leapt away from them, firing as he did.   
  
To his side, Aneana seemed to be staring up at the sky, her eyes wide with terror.   
  
The mountain shook violently as a dark, dark shape descended on them. It seemed to be dark beyond a simple lack of light, and at the centre there seemed to be a vaguely humanoid shape. A wraith, a wraith of something that had once been great.   
  
"You have come," a voice said, so terrible, yet Legolas thought he detected just a small hint of fear in it.   
  
Aneana stared at the being, clutching her sword. She seemed like a cat ready to spring, and even as Legolas cried out a warning, she moved.  
  
Turning his bow, Legolas began shooting at the wraith. It cried out in anger, turning its attention to the elf for just a second. It was all Aneana needed, bringing her sword down. Gold glimmered as a ring fell to the ground. The wraith cried out again, a command in a language that seemed oddly human.  
  
Legolas tried turning again, but the shadows around him had already come, and he reached desperately for his knives.  
  
Gimli saw the elf's predicament, and was already moving forward, slashing furiously. But there were many shadows between him and Legolas.  
  
A mere few feet away stood Aneana, but she was not looking at the elf, but rather at the ring on the ground.   
  
"Aneana!" Legolas cried, feeling dark hands twist the knives from his hand. She had already bent down to pick up the ring, and too late she turned.  
  
The elf saw her eyes fill with deep anguish, her lips moving as she charged towards him. But even though she moved, she was becoming more distant.   
  
The wraith moved as well, and the last thing the elf registered was Gimli's cry of "Noooooo!"  
  
*******  
  
"Nooooo!" Gimli cried out, watching as his dear friend was carried away, fast as the wind, wrapped in darkness. Aneana stood thunderstruck at the place the elf had been standing, tears forming in her eyes. His bow and knives lay on the ground, and the dwarf picked them up and clutched them to his chest.  
  
"You should have helped him!" Gimli said furiously. "You should have helped him!"  
  
"I know," she whispered, looking down at the ground. In her hand, the ring glimmered treacherously. It had a gem of some kind, she wasn't quite sure what kind. It didn't matter now.   
  
"What have I done?"  
  
The dwarf didn't answer, but his eyes said enough.  
  
She shivered, even though there were no wind. If she had turned around faster… If she had not picked up the ring… A true legend of Middle-earth. The last elf. What was a simple ring compared to that?  
  
_Legolas. Forgive me _her mind sent out, hoping against hope he would hear her.  
  
"We should never have come," the dwarf muttered, kicking the ground. "The humans can deal with Middle-earth now. He should be at the Havens, not in Mordor with me."  
  
"He's the last elf in Middle-earth," she pointed out. "There are no ships. Even Celeborn left at last some time ago. Legolas stayed, because…"  
  
"I know," Gimli said quietly, and his voice had a profound sadness in it. She stared at him, and suddenly she realised how torn the dwarf was. He wanted Legolas to stay in Middle-earth because of their great friendship. Yet he wanted the elf to leave for the very same reason.   
  
"We will find him and help build a ship," the dwarf said after a moment's silence, his voice strong and determined now. She met his glance, and she smiled, ever so briefly.  
  
"Yes, we will."  
  
They chased into the darkness.   
  



	5. Chapter Five

Fading Legends  
By Camilla Sandman   
  
Chapter Five   
  
_I am a fool.  
  
I wanted so desperately to become a legend I did not realise it is not something to set out to be. You do not make your choices because you think of the reaction of others. You make your choices there and then, because you have to.  
  
I will never be a legend because I want to be one.  
  
My mother and father became legends because they did not think of such things. They made the choices they had to.  
  
Legolas and Gimli helped Frodo the Ringbearer not because they sought fame, but because they wanted to help him carry a great burden.   
  
I have been a fool. I thought more about defeating this dark creature than protecting these two remarkable beings; the dwarf and the elf. Because of it, Gimli could lose his best friend.  
  
Foolish, foolish pride. But if I can realise this, perhaps there is hope for humanity and Middle-earth.   
  
And I will chase after Legolas together with Gimli until every bone in my body hurts – and even then will I press on. There are some things that make us greater than we are.   
  
_ ~~~~~~  
  
There was darkness, and there was pain. Legolas had no idea if he was standing or not, he knew only that his whole body cried out as flames and ice both touched his skin.  
  
"Legolasssss…" the voice said by his ear. "She will come, yes… Mine. You will all be mine."  
  
The elf tried to protest, but new pain was assaulting him and he could only cry out in anguish.  
  
He was not sure how long the pain went on or how many times he passed out, but after a while he felt cold stone against his cheek. He was lying on a cave floor, his body tired. To even move the slightest hurt. He could feel tears on his face, and something else, something warm.   
  
Blood.  
  
His mind felt heavy, and to his horror he realised something else was there, trying to gain control.  
  
_Legolas_ came a sweet voice suddenly, the last voice he would ever expect to hear in Middle-earth.  
  
"Galadriel," he whispered. Warmth began to spread through his veins, but it was a comfortable warmth now.  
  
_Be strong, Legolas. They will come. You are not alone._  
  
*******  
  
They ran as the wind, deeper into darkness. A few orcs came at them, but in their great need Aneana and Gimli barely stop to deal with them.  
  
Gimli still clutched Legolas's bow and knives. It would have looked slightly ridiculous, the small dwarf and the great bow, had it not been for the expression on Gimli's face. Somehow, Aneana knew the dwarf would have charged even Sauron to save his friend.  
  
The night was cold even without any wind. And the way the dwarf regarded her, made Aneana's heart even colder.  
  
Light broke over the horizon, and with the first rays of sun came a music. It had no words, yet it was filled with feeling. It gathered in strength as the sun rose, until Aneana thought she could nearly see it.  
  
She could see it. It was gathering shape and light and becoming…  
  
"Lady Galadriel," Gimli said in reverence, bowing low. The great lady of Lothlórien smiled at him, and the light around her seemed to grow stronger. She seemed not fully substantial though, because the light shone through her.   
  
"Gimli, son of Glòin, Lockbearer and mightiest of the dwarves," she greeted him, and fondness radiated from her voice. The dwarf smiled at her, no longer seeming old or weary. He seemed perfectly happy for a second, his face so beautiful Aneana felt her heart flutter.  
  
"You have done well. Do not despair. A great gift will be given you when you have walked through darkness."   
  
Aneana lowered her eyes as Galadriel turned and looked at her.   
  
"Aneana, daughter of Aragorn and Arwen. My great grand-daughter."   
  
Shivering, Aneana felt something enter her mind, reading her thoughts and emotions, seeing everything. She felt foolish and small, knowing her petty reasons for coming to Mordor. Shame filled her, and she nearly wept.   
  
_You may save Legolas yet, child, but it may cost you your life. Will you risk it? _Galadriel's voice whispered in her mind.  
  
_Yes _thought Aneana.  
  
_ No one would know. You would die alone, forgotten. Would you still give your life?_  
  
Her mind was crystal-clear now, filled with images of the elf, his gentle but sad eyes, his long, blonde hair moving in the wind.   
  
"Yes," she said aloud. "Yes, I would."  
  
*******  
  
Soft hands touched his face, and he could feel a warm body next to his. Something pushed through all pain, fighting with the other presence in his mind.   
  
_Legolas, listen to my voice. _  
  
His eyelids felt heavy, and he nearly passed out from the pain to open them. There was a light in the cave now, like starlight, radiating from the person kneeling by his side.  
  
"Undómiel," he whispered in awe. "Arwen…"  
  
Her fingers stroked his cheek gently, and he could see tears form in her eyes.  
  
"No. It's only me," she whispered, and the light faded slightly. Her face came into focus now, and he realised it was Aneana. She looked different, sadder, but the starlight in her eyes was brighter than ever.   
  
"Gimli…" he muttered, trying to form the question, but his voice managed only a few coughs.   
  
"I do not know where Galadriel brought him," she replied. "He will come though, with men from Minas Tirith. He has your bow… I…"   
  
Her voice faltered, and a single tear fell to the floor. He could feel her mind connected with his own still, and felt her desperate wish for her father and mother and her terrible shame that she was not like them.  
  
He tried to speak, to tell her she had the same courage as her father, but his mind felt so heavy and tired.   
  
Against his will, his eyes closed.   
  
The last thing he felt, was her hand on his forehead, easing away the pain, and he slept.   
  



	6. Chapter Six

Fading Legends  
By Camilla Sandman  
  
Chapter Six  
  
_I would die for him. Because he is the last of a great race which blood I share, because he is the friend of Gimli the Dwarf, and because my father would have.   
  
I miss him, my kind and legendary father. But in comforts me to know that Legolas misses him too, remembering all that have been. He will pass over the sea and keep on remembering, and my father will not have lived in vain.  
  
I will not have lived in vain.   
  
I would die for him because my heart sings when he is near, and there is little song left in Middle-earth now.  
  
_~~~~~~  
  
The cave was quiet as Aneana sat, cradling the elf and watching intently every shadow. The wraith would come soon, realising Legolas was not giving in to domination.   
  
She shivered, wishing desperately some of her determination from meeting Galadriel would return. The cave seemed so empty and cold, no obvious exit.   
  
The great Elven lady had led her there, to a small entrance that had caved in behind her, trapping her inside and Gimli outside.  
  
Could Galadriel lead him to another entrance? Or would her image fade as the morning did, leaving the dwarf to find a way on his own? Would he really seek help from Minas Tirith, as Aneana had been so convinced he would just a few moments ago?  
  
She shivered again, reaching inside to hold around her amulet. It had been her mother's, shining with starlight. But since her mother had walked off, its light had become dull.   
  
"Mother," she whispered, staring down at Legolas. He seemed so pale, and so beautiful, but his skin was still cold to her touch.  
  
"Mother , help me!"  
  
She summoned all her strength, reaching out to his mind once more. It seemed easier every time, as if it was a skill she could practice.   
  
The shadow presence in his mind hissed at her, but as she clutched the amulet, she felt light beginning to emerge from it. Not her mother's light, _her_ light.   
  
_He is not for you!_ she thought forcefully, the starlight growing in her mind.   
  
_Arwen… You have come…_came a stronger voice, and she realised the wraith was speaking to her through the being. It was aware of her.   
  
_I am Aneana! _she shouted, cursing the being for saying her mother's fair name with such foulness.  
  
The shadow being laughed then, and Legolas's body tensed. Sweat rolled down his face, and she realised he was fighting with all the strength he had.   
  
Without thinking, she took his hand and put it on the amulet.   
  
The being screamed in his mind, filed with rage and pain, but even as it screamed, light penetrated it and with a wail, it was gone.  
  
Legolas's eyes opened, and she felt his hand take hers as the starlight vanished and the darkness returned.   
  
*******  
  
The wraith cried out in anger, his great mind consumed by only one thing.  
  
Pain. Pain to the half-elf and the elf who had dared resist him and stealing his one treasure. Pain to the world, this fading wreck of a world that barely had anything of worth in it. Pain to the humans, who had become small and petty. Pain to the orcs who had tormented him under Sauron's watchful eye. Pain to the trees because they mocked him in their existence, reminding him of something he did not wish to remember.   
  
Most of all though, pain to himself for crumbling, for betraying, for changing, for… Dying, while still alive.  
  
Pain!  
  
But even as his mind cursed and plotted revenge, the small part of his heart that sill remembered, wept.   
  
Wept for Vilmeide the Blue, rider of the air and member of the Order of the Istari. There was nothing Sauron could not corrupt and turn to evil.  
  
Pain. In the end, it got to everyone.  
  
And the being that had been Vilmeide laughed. It knew the half-elf's pain.   
  
*******  
  
He had felt so very, very tired when starlight had filled his mind. Starlight like that of Arwen and Galadriel, assaulting the presence in his mind until it had vanished.  
  
A veil seemed to lift from his mind, and feeling returned to his body. He could open his eyes again, staring into the face of Aneana, Arwen's daughter. Only Arwen's daughter could summon the light of the Eveningstar and shine so brightly. It warmed his heart and grieved him, almost like the first dawn after Sauron's defeat had. It was the same feeling of loss and great joy, knowing that Arwen was gone, but something of her lingered in Middle-earth still.  
  
Aneana.  
  
For a second her mind touched his again, singing softly in Elvish.   
  
It was like an echo of the songs of Lothlórien, before it had faded and Galadriel had left.  
  
Not all of Middle-earth's glory was gone. There was echoes still. Perhaps there would always be echoes, small reminders of what had been.  
  
"Aneana?" he asked softly.  
  
He could barely see her face in the darkness, but something moist shone in her eyes.   
  
"Galadriel came," she whispered, her voice trembling. "She had a message from Gandalf. The being… It is one of the Istari, the last of the Istari to remain in Middle-earth. We must go to the remains of Barad-dûr. It will be there."  
  
"I know. I hear its whispers still," the Elf replied, nearly groaning in pain as he tried to get up. Even though warmth was returning to his body, pain throbbed distantly through it.   
  
"I…" she began, but her voice failed her. Guilt was radiating from her, as she let him lean on her for a moment and taking in the full extent of his injuries. He had to take a deep breath, his knees nearly buckling under the effort to remain standing.  
  
"Something is coming," he said suddenly, staring into the darkness.  
  
A loud curse came from nearby in the unmistakably voice of an annoyed dwarf.  
  
"Gimli!" they said in unison, and both smiled.   
  



	7. Chapter Seven

Fading Legends  
By Camilla Sandman  
  
Chapter Seven  
  
_Middle-earth is less.   
  
But the sun still rises, and we are free. A great price was paid for this freedom.  
  
When I saw her, mightiest of the Elven ladies, Lady of Lothlórien, old and wise, something in my heart changed. What right have I to be ungrateful to live in the times I do, when her kind has given up so much to bring it about?  
  
They gave something far more precious than their lives to fight Sauron – they gave their home. Middle-earth was their home.  
  
It is our home now, but because we are not as great as them, our world is less. As it must be.   
  
And still, I grieve for the loss.  
  
_~~~~~~  
  
They emerged from the caves as daylight reigned over Mordor, and the sun looked stronger and brighter than before. Or perhaps it just seemed that way, in their joy at see it again.  
  
Legolas drank in the sight of it, feeling the last of the shadows let go of him. With the bow in his hands again, strength seemed to return to his limbs.  
  
Gimli looked grim, half covered in mud from digging away earth to get to them. He didn't stray far from Legolas, sending a few looks at Aneana.   
  
She seemed to accept the hard looks, just closing her eyes whenever the dwarf stared at her.   
  
"She wanted me to go to Minas Tirith. As if one dwarf are not as good as ten men," Gimli remarked when she went ahead by a few feet. The way her head dropped slightly told Legolas she had heard though.  
  
"Foolish girl. She has the sense of a hobbit, that one," the Dwarf continued, but his voice had lost some of its edge.   
  
"She got the ring. That was what you came for," the Elf pointed out, but the dwarf merely grunted.   
  
"The rings belong to the old Middle-earth," Gimli said after a while, surprising Legolas. The dwarf sounded unusually thoughtful.  
  
"I will take it with me over the sea," the Dwarf continued, causing Legolas to stare at him. The dwarf smiled, a great smile that lit up his entire face.   
  
"Lady Galadriel gave me the gift of passage. I am going with you, Legolas, to be forever near her beauty… And you, of course," Gimli added after a few seconds pause.   
  
The elf let out a soft laughter, feeling as if a great burden had been lifted from his heart. Gimli was coming!   
  
"Before she left, she told me we would find timber for a grey ship near the Havens. We will build a ship, Legolas, and cross the sea."  
  
"Yes," Legolas replied but even as he spoke, his eyes sought Aneana.   
  
She had Elven blood, and she had to feel some of the same longing. Would her children and grandchildren be doomed to an unexplainable longing for the sea, a longing they could never fulfil?   
  
Would they look at Middle-earth and know it was less?  
  
*******  
  
They reached the collapsed remains of Barad-dûr as the sun set a second time, weary, but the stars twinkled down at them with a comforting light.   
  
The air seemed thick and hard to breathe, as if evil was a substance that could leak into the air.   
  
The shadows kept their distance, out of fear or merely because they were waiting was hard to say. A few moved towards them, but managed only a few steps before Legolas's bow sang.  
  
Aneana shook her head. "We're just destroying their shapes. The darkness feeds them."  
  
Taking a deep breath, she stepped forward.  
  
"Vilmeide of the Istari, show yourself! I, Aneana, daughter of Arwen and King Elessar commands you!"  
  
Her voice gained strength as she spoke, faint echoes of Aragorn's heritage perhaps.   
  
The earth shook, and Legolas had an arrow ready on his bow as the wind began gathering.  
  
Out of the shadows grew the wraith, looking more human this time. Legolas let his arrow go, but the wind caught hold of it and carried it away.   
  
Gimli tried taking a step forward, but the wind was like a wall, and he pushed at it furiously.  
  
"Aneana… Half-Elf," the wraith whispered, lifting the wind to caress her cheek. She suddenly closed her eyes, her lips moving soundlessly. The wraith had to be touching her mind, because sweat was forming on her forehead and her jaw was set hard.   
  
"I can give you this," the wraith whispered. She stared at him, shaking her head, but Legolas could see her hand trembling.   
  
"You can be an elf," the wraith said again. "Give me the ring, mortal and immortality will be yours. I can give you all you want. Middle-earth will be great again. We will make it great, you and I."  
  
"No," she said and shook her head, but even as she did, she took a step forward.   
  
"Aneana!" Legolas called out desperately, suddenly realising that through her the wraith would get a power that Middle-earth had no match for anymore.  
  
His cry cut through the air and Aneana halted, her face losing the expression of bewilderment.   
  
"Never!" she spat at the wraith, and lifted her arms. Light shone from the amulet she wore, and the ring on her finger began to throb with an insistent yellow light as well.   
  
The wraith shrieked in anger and pain, launching at her in blind rage. She didn't even blink as darkness engulfed her, standing erect and with an odd smile on her lips.   
  
The wind died.  
  



	8. Epilogue

Fading Legends  
By Camilla Sandman  
  
Chapter Eight - Epilogue  
  
The sun had just set when Legolas sprung on light feet through the grass. Behind him, the sea glittered calmly, barely a ripple destroying the perfect reflection of the stars.  
  
The ship was ready. Tomorrow, he and Gimli would leave Middle-earth forever. The dwarf seemed eager to set off in a way that meant he was greatly saddened too.  
  
Legolas understood it all too well. Joy and sadness were so mixed in his heart he was not sure what was strongest.   
  
It had been such a beautiful home, even with shadows and evil. There would be no more evil now, except for that which the humans created themselves.  
  
Sauron was gone. And the last of the Istari had vanished, as Aneana had channelled the light of the elves and disbanded the darkness. Legolas suspected the being had actually been glad, for its last dying scream had been filled with both pain and relief.   
  
Maybe that was all it had been seeking after all. Knowing what it had become, maybe it wished for destruction. Maybe something of the great spirit of the Istari had survived Sauron's darkness.   
  
That was what Aneana thought. She had not said much about what she had heard in her mind, but she seemed very pensive and silent. She had given the ring to Gimli, and had come with them to the Haven, claiming it was only fitting they had a Royal goodbye.  
  
But seeing the longing in her eyes, Legolas knew she was coming so she could pretend she was sailing away too.  
  
She sat quietly with her back turned on a log when he walked into the clearing where they had set up camp. In the distance, an owl hooted sadly, as if it too was saying goodbye.  
  
"The ship is ready," she said without turning.  
  
"Yes. We set sail tomorrow."  
  
She nodded slightly, then finally turned to look at him.  
  
She was wearing a gown that reminded him of Elven maidens, long and white, and her hair hung loosely down her back.   
  
He stared, mesmerised, as she got up and walked towards him.   
  
"Legolas…" she whispered, staring into his eyes. He reached out to touch her cheek, and her skin felt as soft as velvet to his fingers.  
  
_You are beautiful _his mind whispered, and she smiled. He let a finger trace her jaw line, all the way up to her ear. Her eyes never left his face as he touched her, his fingers taking in every part of her face.   
  
She closed her eyes when he leaned forward, lips touching lips.   
  
_Legolas _she whispered as gently as a summer wind and they sank onto the grass.  
  
******  
  
The morning came drifting in with a slight fog and a strong westward wind.   
  
The ship rocked as waves crashed against it, and Gimli looked slightly worried to Legolas. The dwarf kept staring at the boat as if it was an orc. He patted his axe a few times, but the light in his eyes didn't fade.  
  
"Galadriel," he said gently, lifting his eyes to the sea.  
  
Aneana stood silently by the elf's side, watching a seagull circle above. Her hair still hung loose, and the wind whipped it around her face. She was breathing deeply, taking in the smell of the sea Legolas suspected.   
  
"We best be off," the dwarf announced, climbing into the boat.   
  
"Aneana…" Legolas began, then stopped. How could he say goodbye, knowing it was forever?   
  
"I… I wanted to say thank you, Legolas." She spoke softly, reaching out to touch his cheek, but stopping herself before her hand made contact with his skin.  
  
"I felt like an elf for a time, and now I know my mother lives on within me. Humanity will forget, but our hearts will remember. I have hope now."  
  
She smiled, and her eyes shone at him, despite the tears that were gathering in them.  
  
"My mother chose mortality. I am bound by her choice, even if my heart sings of the sea. But maybe we will meet again, beyond time and reckoning, Legolas, last of the elves. Remember me and all of those that do not share your curse and blessing."  
  
"I will," he promised.  
  
Behind them, the dwarf sniffled loudly.  
  
_Farewell, Legolas _her mind whispered.  
  
The last thing the elf saw of Middle-earth as the ship set off, was her amulet, shining with the light of a star through the fog.  
  
~~~~~~  
  
_My mind tells me I will never see him again. He has crossed the sea, and I am bound to Middle-earth. But my heart… My heart has hope.  
  
It was hope that led Frodo the Ringbearer to Mount Doom, despite all. It was hope that drove the Fellowship, and it was hope that drove me and Gimli into the darkness of Mordor.   
  
Hope.   
  
Middle-earth is less, but it has still hope. Legends will fade, but we will be forever shaped by them, whether we know it or not. Their legacy is hope.  
  
I *will* see him again._  
  
Fini  
  



End file.
